by P J Mann
Flavius turned his eyes up toward him. “What happened to you?” he asked. Nara’s face showed a trace of blood from his nose.
Nara tried to wipe it away. “Nothing, Master, just a small accident,” he said, lowering his gaze.
Flavius stood and walked to him, gently held his chin, and forced him to meet his gaze. His eyes opened wide and his breath became shallow. Fear was evident on the slave’s face. Barely controlled by anger, Flavius caressed his cheek. “Claudia?” he casually asked.
Nara’s brow furrowed as if he did not understand.
“Did you upset her?” Flavius asked calmly.
Nara was unsure about how to answer. He didn’t want to get into bigger trouble by talking to Flavius.
“No, Master. I…I hit myself.” Nara stuttered as Flavius held his chin firmly in his hand to keep his eyes steadily on his own.
“Are you lying to me?” he asked, his tone still calm.
“I beg you, Master, let me go,” he said as his eyes welled again with tears.
Flavius let him go and Nara ran away from the room. He grinned, clenching his teeth. Many times, he had warned his wife to be less violent with the slaves, but it was in vain.
Anger flamed from his soul and spurred him to barge into the dining room where he was sure he would find her. She lay on the couch with a serene smile and observed the table in front of her filled with all sort of delicacies.
“How many times have I told you that I wouldn't tolerate any unnecessary violence with the slaves?” he snapped, entering like fury in the room.
“What are you talking about?” she wondered.
He ran out of patience and strode from the room, his sandals thumping on the mosaic floor. He went to get Nara and brought him in front of her. “This is what I mean. Look at his face!”
She averted her eyes. Flavius dragged Nara in front of her. Through gritted teeth, he repeated, “Look at his fucking face, NOW!”
“Stop screaming at me!”
“Why did you hurt him like that?”
“You little…” she said in disgust, her eyes shooting daggers at the slave.
Flavius slapped her violently, causing her to fall to the floor.
“Now you know how it feels to be hit. I don’t want you to take this as an offense, rather as a way to see both sides of the medal,” he growled.
Claudia, humiliated at being struck by her husband in front of a slave, started to sob.
Flavius hated to see a woman cry, regardless of whether she was a cruel person, and offered her his hand to stand up.
She slapped his hand away, stood, and ran off. She didn’t want him to see her crying.
“Why can’t you love me?” she wept as she arrived in her room. “Everybody is more important than me, including slaves. What should I do?” she sobbed, collapsing onto the bed.
Flavius walked in behind her and sat next to her on the bed.
“Claudia, please don’t make me look like the monster I am not,” he said gently. “You are right; our union is not based on love. I was practically forced into this marriage, as were you. I do not hate you, but you cannot ask for my love.”
“You love only Saul. A miserable slave is better than your wife. Am I really that ugly in your eyes?”
“I have practically grown up with Saul. He has been my best friend when I was alone, and not, as you said, because he was forced to. Surely, he is a slave, but you can recognize whether a slave is just obeying you or he is by your side. Sometimes I spend my nights with him, but I would never say you are ugly. You are amazingly beautiful, Claudia, and I like your beauty. But you won’t listen to me. Don’t beat the slaves because you are annoyed. Nara is one of our best, and I hate to see the terror in his eyes as I did a few minutes ago when he came to call me for dinner.”
Flavius understood that Claudia’s actions were mostly driven by the dissatisfaction and frustration of a wrongly arranged marriage.
“I’m sorry, let’s forget this and share a peaceful dinner,” he proposed.
She forced a contorted smile on her face and stood up from the bed, then walked into the dining room. Flavius followed in her wake, avoiding saying anything else that could upset her further. After dinner, he retired in his working room, and Claudia went out to the garden.
The effect she’d obtained from blinding Saul was not what she had anticipated. He was not living with them anymore, and Flavius was not spending his nights with him, nor with her. Evidently, he did not enjoy spending time, night or day, in her company. Her frustration grew as the days passed, mostly because she knew that he engaged in a hopeless, yet frantic search for the person who ruined his slave. What was she supposed to do to get Saul out of Flavius’ thoughts, and out of her life forever?
Would it really have been best if she’d killed him? She had gone to all that trouble of plotting the kidnapping and, paying two men to help her with Saul, when all she had to do was kill him.
She shook her head and held herself with her arms. She was sure that if she had killed Saul, her husband would have gotten depressed and maybe killed himself from the pain of losing his precious Saul.
Disgust and hate fueled her rage. She was the only one Flavius should have loved and desired, and yet he admitted that he would never be able to love her. What were all her efforts for? Should she have killed her husband instead? Should she ask for a divorce?
What am I supposed to do? Everything I did was wrong.
They should never have gotten married; however, she had been in love with Flavius since childhood. Nevertheless, what she did must remain a secret from everybody.
She was glad that Saul kept his mouth shut and hadn’t revealed the real nature of his accident. He was able, at least, to obey. Maybe he’d finally learned to keep his place as a slave should, but she preferred to have him far from her life. No matter whether Flavius was still ignoring her, the most important thing was that there wasn’t anybody between them.
She stood up from the garden bench as the sun started to set. In a couple of hours, there wouldn’t be any useful light. She collected her work and dismissed all the slaves who were with her, then, exhausted by the long day, she walked to the bedroom. Her eyes turned for the last time to the room where Flavius worked. She would have liked to go in and spend time with him, but she knew that only she would have enjoyed it. She shook her head and walked away, followed by the slaves who would prepare her for the night.
She lay down on the bed, looking at the empty place beside her and, with a sorrowful sigh, closed her eyes.
Chapter 22.
It took several days for Marcus Tiberius to decide to speak with Saul about what to do with his son, so early one morning, he entered Saul’s room. He watched him sleeping and smiled as he realized how dear that peacefully sleeping youth was to him.
“Saul,” he called softly, shaking him lightly.
“Who…Master?” He opened his blind eyes.
“Yes, come with me. I need to talk to you,” Marcus Tiberius ordered, forgetting that Saul needed assistance dressing.
“Master…” His face flushed.
“Of course. I’ll call Cassandra to help you. When you are ready, come to my room.”
“What time is it?”
“A few hours before sunrise, but I could not wait for the day. I need to discuss a very important matter that is bothering my soul,” he replied, then left the room.
After Saul was dressed, Cassandra guided him into Marcus Tiberius’ room.
“What's bothering you, Master?”
“It is about Flavius. I told Flaminia the entire story. She will keep the secret, but she had the right to know it; she is your mistress and my wife. I don’t like to hide things from her.” He settled comfortably on the couch.
Saul nodded, wanting to know what the point of the entire story was.
“She believes that Flavius should know the truth about your accident. I am not yet convinced, but it seems that he won’t find any peace until he has a culprit in
his hands. I still fear his reaction, but as Flaminia said, you are the only one who can reach his soul, bringing him to reason.”
Saul mused. “So you want me to tell him the truth about the accident and try to make him understand that revenge should be out of the question?”
“Precisely.”
“He will get upset with me about this lie.” Saul already feared Flavius’ reaction.
“You were following my orders, as you are doing now.”
In a lower voice, Saul said, “Of course, Master.” He was sure Flavius would become angry, but Saul could not disobey Marcus Tiberius’ orders. I am supposed to be by Flavius’ side as a lover and most of all, as a friend.
He knew his young Master trusted him more than any other person in the world and might view his withholding of information as a betrayal. He didn’t want to disappoint the Master he loved.
Saul straightened his shoulders. “He will never forgive me, and I can’t forgive myself for hiding something like that from him, but I will talk to him as you order.”
Marcus Tiberius nodded, satisfied. “Nothing bad will happen to you, Saul. Let me take care of it. You just do what I order and talk to Flavius.”
“Yes, Master.”
Because of Claudia’s threat, he agreed not to reveal the truth to Flavius, but now he realized how foolish that fear was. He should have told him without fearing anything or anybody, more than the disappointment of his Master.
As they walked out of the room, Cassandra said, “So, the time has come for you to be totally honest with Flavius,”
“I am terrified of his reaction,” he confessed, holding her hand.
“Saul, you had good reasons to hide from him what Claudia did to you. I know Flavius, and he will understand. Your only concern is to ensure he won’t take drastic actions. You know he might be impulsive and act in a way that he would regret for the rest of his life.”
Saul knew Cassandra spoke the truth. Claudia was the person to fear, not Flavius.
“I am afraid that you all expect too much from me. I am not sure I can do much of anything if Flavius loses his temper. When he is ready to listen, I can help but will he be ready after he knows the truth?”
She kissed his cheek and flashed a reassuring smile. “You will do what you can. This is what Marcus Tiberius expects from you. He knows it won’t be an easy task.”
“What time is it?” he asked as he waited for his doom.
Standing, she said, “It is soon the seventh hour of the day. We can eat if this will help you. Our Masters have already started their meal; there is no reason we shouldn’t have ours as well.”
“I guess you are right. It will distract me for a bit.”
As they walked through the garden toward the kitchen, he pulled her aside into his bedroom. “I have a better idea. No one can see us now, and our Masters are busy, “he whispered, then brushed her neck with his lips.
“I think I prefer your idea.” She kissed him, and they sank onto the bed.
Saul could not say what Flavius’ reaction would be. Perhaps he would take him back to his house to confront him with Claudia present. Eventually, he would kill him for his disloyalty, hiding the most important truth, or maybe Flavius would take him away from Rome to live somewhere else together. His imagination caressed the idea of going to live far away with his Master, but his love for Cassandra dimmed the vision to sepia tones.
He would miss her, body and her sweet kisses. Nothing compared with lying naked by her side, caressing her soft skin, feeling the warmth of her body, and her breath getting shallow.
Nothing compared with feeling the excitement growing with her until both of them were won over by the pleasure, and they lay in each other’s arms. Saul would have missed her too much, and wasn’t sure his Master would be enough to make up for the missing of his Cassandra.
Her words pulled him from his thoughts. “We don’t have much time until Flavius arrives. You’d better dress up. I will comb your hair, and then we will have something to eat.”
Saul stood and complied.
He had a task on which to focus. During the night, he would think about Cassandra.
During three hours of waiting, Saul helped Marcus Tiberius as much as possible.
Suddenly, Flavius appeared between the heavy curtains that divided the working room from the rest of the house.
“Good day, Father. Saul,” greeted Flavius as he came in.
“You sound tired, Master. Didn’t you sleep properly last night?” Saul asked.
Flavius hadn’t slept at all. “Something like that, Saul. I can’t remember the last time I had a good sleep. While I was kept prisoner, I barely slept; since I returned home, I have been obsessed with finding the hand that hurt you.
“Master, I need to talk to you alone, if possible,” Saul said to Flavius, keeping his voice as steady as possible against the heartbeat chocking his breath.
Marcus Tiberius asked, “Is there something you are hiding from me or something I should know?”
“Father, I am sure Saul has a good reason if he asks to talk to me. I need to speak with him in private as well.” Flavius beseeched him. “Please, let’s not make it a personal issue.”
Marcus Tiberius smiled. “So it shall be. I will leave you alone, so you will have all the privacy you will need.”
When his father’s footsteps receded, Flavius moved closer and put his hand on Saul’s shoulder. “So, what do you need to talk to me about?”
Saul wondered how long his young Master’s voice would remain soft and gentle after he told him the truth. However, he was going to do that.
Inhaling, he closed his eyes to gain strength. “I asked to talk to you because I am going to disobey an order for the first time in my life.”
Flavius narrowed his eyes. “Did my father order you not to tell me something?”
“Everything at its time. I have been feeling badly about it, and I prefer to face a punishment rather than go through with what your father wants me to do. I care very much about you, and Marcus Tiberius could not take this into account. How could he ever understand what I feel?” Saul started to talk, almost to himself.
Flavius shifted and caressed his face from the temple to the chin. He raised Saul’s head to look into his absent eyes and softly kissed his lips.
“Master, I don’t know how I am going to say it. Please remain calm and carefully consider my words from the start to the end. I want you to keep any impulsiveness at bay and listen to everything I have to say.”
“I will try to do my best.” Apprehension rose in Flavius.
“I hope you won’t be upset with me, as I am nothing but a slave and whatever my Master orders, I have to obey.”
“I know, Saul. That's the reason we have slaves.”
“I…” A big lump formed in his throat and his words could not slide around it.
“Saul, I’m here; I am going to protect you.”
He swallowed and spoke in a rush, “I know who blinded me, but I’m not sure it was the same person who planned your kidnapping.” Saul inhaled deeply and exhaled. His pulse pounded in his ears.
Flavius felt like a blade had stabbed him in the chest, piercing his heart. His breathing became shallow, and his legs wobbled, unable to support his weight. He slumped onto the sofa.
Silence reigned as he struggled to control his body and thoughts. “What do you mean, you know who did it?”
“When your father brought me here, he didn’t know either; I was determined to keep it secret. I will explain the reason later. Marcus Tiberius recognized I was lying. When he realized it, he ordered me to remain on my knees for the entire night to think about whether protecting myself was worth more than being honest with him. Cassandra came to talk to me. She also thought that I knew more than I told, and in the end, I confessed the truth to her. Marcus Tiberius overheard us.” He continued, “He forbade me to tell anyone the truth. Being here, considering the deal broken, he was my only Master, and I had to obey him. I th
ought it would be easy, but I was wrong.” He glanced in Flavius’ direction. “I didn’t want to lie to you.”
Harnessing his impatience with difficulty, Flavius said, “Fine, but I want a name. Who blinded you, Saul?”
The slave gulped. “It was Mistress Claudia, helped by two other men. She came by night into my room. As I woke up, I found myself tied to the bed. Two men held me steady by the legs and wrists as she sat beside me. She said how disappointed she was that I took your attention away from her. She believed I overshadowed her in front of her guests when they asked me to sing for them. Sometimes your mother asked for my presence when she visited. For being too beautiful, smart, too much of everything, for not keeping my place as a slave, she was going to punish me,” Saul said, immobile where he stood. He waited for Flavius to rage.
A tense silence followed, then he burst into loud, hysterical laughter which grew in volume until it transformed into a scream.
As tears flowed from his eyes, Flavius lost all strength, and his cries turned into painful sobs as his body fell to the floor. He felt unable to stop crying, to move, or to speak, frozen by the horror of Claudia’s cruelty for the purpose of her sadistic pleasure masked as punishment for crimes never committed.
No matter how she would justify her hatred for Saul to herself or to others, he knew she enjoyed being cruel to all her slaves. Nara was another example. What kind of excuse could she have had for beating him as she had? Was he too beautiful to compete with as well? All the slaves feared her. What would have been their fault?
He tried to regain control of himself and stood up from the floor. The kidnapping flashed into his mind. “Was everything organized just to hurt you?” he whispered. He thought about Dionysius, Lukos, and Leandros, killed without any reservation, like animals. He thought of the threat of his kidnappers. Was she really so blinded by hatred to order his kidnapping?
With his strength regained, Flavius screamed, hoping that the gods would hear him and feel shaken by his request for justice.